


And Everything Was New

by mytardisisparked



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Married Couple, Pregnancy, family life, kind of slice of life, ruler!din, ruler!omera, this is my first time wiriting this couple so please be gentle with me if they are ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:46:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytardisisparked/pseuds/mytardisisparked
Summary: Omera and Din adjust to life as the rulers of Mandalore. Unexpected challenges and joys meet them along the way.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Din Djarin/Omera, Omera & Winta (Star Wars)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 62





	And Everything Was New

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous prompt on Tumblr:
> 
> Heyyyyy what's the chance you'd be willing to write a DinxOmera fic where Omega adjusts to technically being a ruler of Mandalore after marrying Din? You can do whatever you want I just think I would be cute 👉👈

The forest path drew her gaze far more than it should have. It was like a magnet; she couldn’t walk past the damned thing without looking down it. Omera knew what her subconscious was looking for: that little flash of silver that had been the last she had seen of the Mandalorian.

It was silly, really, because she knew that he wasn’t coming back. He needed to keep his son safe and, she knew, he needed to leave to keep the village safe too. She rationalized his choice in her head every time her eyes wandered towards the road and her heart lept when something shiny caught her eye. And yet...

Her eyes wandered back towards the road as she stooped by the pool, heart heavy. With a sigh, she dragged her unwilling gaze back towards her work.

She immediately looked back up, however, as she realized someone was coming down the road.

After months of trying to train herself to think that Mando would never return, she struggled to believe her eyes as the beskar-clad man stepped out of the shadows, helmet-ed head scanning the clearing. Despite the fact that his face was covered, Omera felt the moment their eyes locked. 

She stood as he walked over to her, occasionally nodding at others who greeted him. Within a few moments, they were standing toe to toe, exactly as they had been when they last spoke.

“Omera.” His voice was rough, but his tone was gentle, even coming through the modulator of his helmet. 

“Mando.” She smiled. “You came back.”

“I did.” Tentatively, he reached out a hand to take hers. “Do you mind if we speak alone?”

She nodded and lead him to her tent, keeping his hand in hers the whole way.

Once they were safely inside, she turned back to him. he adjusted his grip on her hand and, with a pang of amusement and confusion, Omera realized that the Mandalorian seemed.... nervous.

“You-” he cleared his throat, “you offered to let me stay, back when I was here with my son.” His head tilted up and, once again, Omera could feel him looking into her eyes. 

“I did.” She smiled. “The offer still stands.”

His grip on her hand tightened. “Omera, I- my son is gone. He’s training to be a Jedi.”

She realized the question that was hiding behind that sentence. “My offer still stands.” She lifted a hand to his helmet, not to take it off, just to hold him. “You have a place here, with me, if you want it.”

Mando lifted his hand to hers, and she started to pull away in embarrassment, feeling as if she had crossed a line again. To her surprise, however, he placed his hand over hers and pulled his helmet up.

She found herself looking at the kindest face she had ever seen.

She had often found herself picturing what Mando looked like under his helmet, though it felt wrong to do so. She had never quite landed on a specific mental image, but the vague inklings she had had didn’t do justice to reality; his eyes were a warm, deep brown that matched his dark hair and the scruff around his mouth and chin. As hard as his armor was, the man beneath was softer and more welcoming than anyone else she had ever met.

“My name is Din. Din Djarin.” His eyes flashed nervously, unsure of what to do without the cover of his helmet. 

She moved slowly, leaving the helmet in his hand to reach up and gently cup his cheek. He tensed for a moment at the contact, before leaning into her hand. 

“Welcome home, Din.”

\------

It took little time at all for Din to adjust to life in the village. He still wore his helmet outside of their home, but he integrated into the daily work routine with no problem at all. Winta, of course, took to him like a bantha to water in the desert, shirking her chores to pester him with questions and tell him outlandish stories. Omera tried to warn Winta not to overwhelm him, but Din just patiently asked Winta to tell him another story, sending Omera a small smile to tell her it was alright.

A year after he moved to the village, Din and Omera were married. 

They had tried to have a quiet ceremony, but the entire village decided to throw a massive party for their favorite couple, complete with dancing and food, and several winks and nudges from the village matriarchs regarding the hopes of future “additions to the village.” The only moment of the whole ordeal that wasn’t filled with cheers was the moment Din removed his helmet to kiss his new wife. 

Of course, as soon as their lips touched and the onlookers had recovered from the shock of seeing the face of their hero, they cheered louder than ever, and there wasn’t a moment of silence till dawn the next morning.

As the newlyweds watched the sunrise, hand in hand, Omera felt Din sigh. She looked up to see his brow drawn.

“Din?”

He looked down at her, face relaxing. “Hey.” He reached a hand up to touch her cheek.

She raised a brow. “What’s on your mind?”

His hand fell away and he looked back out at the sun. “I just... I feel like this, this peace, is about to end.”

Omera’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” She rested a hand on his chest and he laid his over it.

“I think-” he sighed again, “I think something’s coming.”

“Well,” Omera reached up and turned his pensive face towards hers, “I suppose we ought to enjoy the time we have, then.”

He smiled and leaned down, capturing her lips in his own. “I suppose we should.”

\------

It was another few months before their peace was finally disturbed.

“Din!” One of the fishermen called into their tent one afternoon as they were repairing their krill baskets. “Someone’s here to see you! Says you have something of hers.”

Din looked at Omera from across their lunch table. “Bo Katan.”

His wife’s eyes flashed to his trunk at the end of their bed. “She wants the sword?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “She wants me to fight her for it.” Without another word, He stood, wiped his mouth on a napkin, and stepped out to reluctantly meet his fate.

“Din Djarin.” 

Din nodded at the three Mandalorians in front of him. “Bo.”

The redhead looked a bit older than the last time they had met, white streaking through the hair at her temples. Her companions looked much the same, Koska practically chomping at the bit to fight as he would expect. 

“I’ve come for the darksaber,” Bo Katan said, tilting her head. “And I will only take it in battle.”

“I don’t want to fight you. You can just take it.”

Bo’s eyes narrowed, wandering around the clearing. “You’ve settled here?”

“Yes,” he paused awkwardly before adding, “it’s a quiet life.”

The woman’s eyes slid back to his. “You are an insufferably good person.”

Din shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I could stage a fight, if you like.”

Bo Katan sighed. “No, I would need to win with honor. Even if I attacked you now, I would know that you were losing on purpose.” She gritted her teeth. “I can’t take the saber from you.”

“Then why are you here?” A subtle note of irritation hung between them. 

“Because if I can’t beat you, I suppose I’ll just have to back you.”

His mouth fell open slightly. “I’m sorry?”

She raised her brows. “Well, you won the darksaber from Moff Gideon, so you’re the rightful ruler of Mandalore. I will support your claim.”

Omera moved to Din’s side, taking his hand in hers to give it a squeeze. “I don’t want to make a claim,” he said, squeezing her hand back.

Bo Katan lowered her head a bit. “We’ve taken back Mandalore but-” she stopped, exchanging a look with Koska, “our people need a leader, Din. They won’t take me back since I have failed them twice.” She chuckled bitterly. “I suspect that, even if I were to win the darksaber in combat, they wouldn’t accept me.” She looked back into his eyes. “Maybe it’s time to let someone else take the throne anyway; a fresh perspective may be exactly what Mandalore needs and, I won’t lie, you are a fair leader.”

Din was stunned. “I know nothing about ruling.”

“I think you know more than you realize. You have a way of bringing people together and making allies. You lead missions with confidence. The rest is just politics and business, which I can help you sort out.” 

“I-” Din took a step back towards their tent. “I need to think.”

Bo Katan nodded and turned back to her own companions as Din pulled Omera inside.

“Omera-”

She quieted him with a gentle kiss. “I had a feeling this was coming.”

His eyes flashed up to hers. “What do you mean?”

She traced a finger down the curve of his cheek. “The scenario with the saber has been on my mind for a long time. This was an outcome that I could see happening.” She smiled. “Bo Katan is right, you are a natural leader.”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t think that qualifies me to lead an entire planet.”

“Maybe not, but I think you could learn very quickly.”

“Are you actually suggesting I take this position?”

Her face grew more serious. “These are your people, Din, and they need you. I won’t tell you what to do, but just know that Winta and I will stand with you whatever you decide.”

He took her face in his hands. “I can’t uproot your life. I can’t ask you to leave.”

“You are my life. And, besides,” her eyes fell to the broken basket on the table, “maybe a change of pace would be good. Complacency isn’t healthy.”

\-----

Life in the palace was... different.

Although Din was completely unaware of the politics of the region and how to create trade routes, Bo Katan kept her word and helped him slowly learn the ropes. It took the people of the system some time to adjust to the idea of a no-name on the throne, but, as Bo and Omera said, his natural leadership and ability to create unlikely allies gained him acceptance. Mandalore seemed to appreciate a ruler who took physical action to solve problems and negotiated quickly between the tense clans.

Omera gained acceptance of her own as well. She took to teaching the children of the palace guards during her school sessions with Winta, which the people respected immensely; in a world where family and adoption were key, Omera fit right in.

Omera did not, however, enjoy the subtleties of palace politics.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t able to handle difficult situations with grace, it was just that the feelings of all eyes watching her during political balls and banquets made her squirm. Every fork movement, every smile, every word, was a point of judgment and she disliked it immensely. Frankly, so did Din, but he had the benefit of his helmet during the majority of public events; Omera could not hide.

Besides the discomfort of politics, however, their family still seemed to thrive. Din remained quietly strong and incredibly devoted to Omera and Winta, their bonds growing stronger as time went on. Being in a new place meant that the three of them relied heavily on each other for strength. Omera enjoyed working with the palace staff and visiting the diverse Sundari markets outside the palace doors. Winta charmed all of the visiting dignitaries and clan leaders with her quick wits and clever turns of phrase. The future of Mandalore was never certain, especially in a society of fierce warriors, but people generally liked the prospect of Winta taking the throne after her father one day. Din liked the idea too, and he was tempted to hand the throne to her now since she seemed to take anything life handed her in stride better than he did. 

He was even more tempted to abdicate after he and Omera found out they were expecting.

“You can’t leave the throne now,” Omera chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he kneeled to speak to her abdomen and tell their baby all his woes, “Winta needs to finish school first and the balance of things is too precarious.”

Din sighed good-naturedly. “I know, but that doesn’t mean a man can’t dream.”

She pulled him back up to her level, cupping his face in her hands. “Of course. A woman can dream too.”

He pulled her into his arms, resting their foreheads together. “We need to tell everyone at some point. Cara will kill me if we make it too much further into this pregnancy without telling her she’s going to be an aunt.”

Omera chuckled. “Maybe we should start with Winta, let her know she’s going to be a big sister.”

Din’s face remained soft, but lost it’s spark of humor. “She already was a big sister, in my eyes.”

“He’ll come back.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Someday, he’ll come back.”

“I just-” Din sighed, looking away. “I miss the little womprat.”

“Me too.” Omera looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe we could see if he could visit after the baby is born?”

He looked back into her eyes. “I think he’d like that.”

\-----

He was right about Cara: she was FURIOUS they didn’t tell her about the baby sooner.

“I’m coming to Mandalore _right now_ to kick your ass.” She spoke with a bit of humor in her voice, even as the holo image of Cara was clearly moving around her room to pack a bag. 

“You can’t come here now, you’re still Marshall.” Din sighed.

“I have like 7 weeks of vacation time built up. I’m coming.”

Before Din could protest again, Omera leaned in. “We would love to have you, Cara. Maybe you can help Winta with her combat classes since I’m becoming less able to assist.” She gestured down at the small but still visible bump at her waist. 

Cara grinned. “How is Winta? What does she think of all of this?”

“She’s very excited for the baby, but-” Din and Omera shared a look. “I think she’s starting to become overwhelmed by change.”

It was understandable, really; the clans had gotten tenser after Din had passed a law preventing infighting on Sundari. The unfortunate result had been multiple clan leaders attempting to convince Winta to talk to her father about repealing the law. That, combined with the sudden knowledge that their family was growing and Winta’s transition into the next level at Sundari Academy, had made the girl quieter than usual.

“That’s understandable.” Cara smiled sympathetically. “Maybe she just needs a friend.”

As it would turn out, a friend was exactly what Winta needed. A Mandalorian boy by the name of Rashel filled that position quite well. 

Rashel Kryze was the son of some old member of Bo Katan’s clan that had left Mandalore following the siege at the end of the Clone Wars and had returned to send his son to the royal academy. Din and Omera had never met the man, but Rashel was a lovely, spirited boy and they enjoyed having him around. His unwavering positivity and curiosity seemed to lift Winta up and restore her former attitude. Her parents suspected that having someone her own age to talk to about her troubles was also a huge relief. 

Once Cara arrived, Winta and Rashel hung around her every available hour outside of sleeping and schoolwork, leaving Din and Omera the chance to spend time together as they prepared for the arrival of the baby.

The respite for the couple, however, was temporary.

“Well, the people know now.” Omera’s mouth drew into a thin line as the holopaper flickered above the table, the title of the front-page article reading: “NEW RULERS OF MANDALORE PRODUCE SECONDARY HEIR - DJARIN LINE EVEN MORE SECURE”

Din frowned scrolling quickly through the article, which made his stomach churn as his quiet family was portrayed as a dynasty. “How did they find out? Do we have a leak in our staff?”

His wife smiled sadly, “No, look at the picture on page three.”

Din glanced up at her before locating the image.

“Oh.” He said, studying the picture of him and Omera standing on their private balcony, Din kneeling before her and gently pressing his hands to the small bump at her abdomen. “Paparazzi.”

“I should have known better than to stand on the balcony without a robe or looser clothing.” Omera shook her head. “I was hoping we would have more time to keep this to ourselves.”

Din set the holo down and took her hands in his. “No, Omera, this isn’t your fault. people shouldn’t trespass on our privacy like that.” He squeezed her hands and rested his forehead against hers. “I wish we had more time too, and I’m sorry this is all out in the open for scrutiny now.”

She pulled one of her hands from his and rested it on his cheek. “I know, but I suppose we would have had to tell them at some point anyway. Maybe this is better.” She grinned. “We both know how you feel about speeches regarding personal matters.”

Her husband winced as he thought back to the speech he gave introducing his family at the beginning of their rule. “Yeah, I would like to avoid repeating that.”

Omera chuckled and hugged him tightly. “For your sake, dear, so would I.”

\-----

Having the news of her pregnancy out to the public was harder than Omera had ever expected. 

Suddenly, the scrutiny she had dreaded only at public affairs of state was leaking deeply into her personal life; every food she ate, every store she visited, every dress she wore was critiqued by news stations all over the planet. She did her best to ignore the chatter, to block out the whispers in the marketplace and the palace staff’s quarters, but still, some phrases broke through her defense and hit where it hurt the most.

_“She’s really going to eat that much seafood? In her 5th month?”_

_“I can’t believe her dress is so loose, isn’t she worried about getting it caught and hurting the baby?”  
_

_“I can’t believe her dress is so tight, isn’t she worried about it constricting and hurting the baby?”  
_

_“You would think she’d know better since she’s done this once before.”  
_

_“I’ve seen her walk into the pharmacy before. Didn’t leave with a single box of prenatal vitamins.”  
_

_“Do you think she knows about the benefits of yoga? I would think every mother should know that.”  
_

_“Why haven’t they gotten the baby tested for any disorders yet? How can they be sure it’s healthy?”  
_

_“Doesn’t she care about the future of Mandalore?  
_

Omera was strong, but that last whisper, heard in her favorite flower shop, a place that had always felt like a safe haven, broke her resolve.

She whirled around to the woman who had spoken under her breath. “You would do well to watch your volume, ma’am. My hearing is better than you think.” She picked up the bouquet she had ordered for Winta and whirled back to the wide-eyed woman. “And, for your information, I gave up _everything_ to come to this place. I left my quiet, peaceful life behind to sort out your wars and petty infighting.” She leaned closer, voice deadly quiet. “I care.” 

She pushed past the shocked woman and the rest of the people behind her in line at the shop and stormed home, barely noticing the way people moved to give her space on the sidewalk upon seeing her terrifying visage. Omera threw the bouquet down on the table, walked straight to Din’s office, and finally let her tears fall as he crossed the room to pull her into his arms.

“Omera, what’s wrong?” He let her bury her face in his chest and ran a comforting hand over her back.

“I’m tired of listening to them criticize me, Din,” she sobbed. “Everyone is watching my every move and I feel like I’m doing this all wrong!”

Din guided her gently over to a couch and helped her sit. “What do you feel like you are doing wrong?” He spoke quietly, running a thumb under her eyes to wipe away tears. 

“Everything,” she said shakily. “Absolutely everything. I can’t figure out how to play at the palace politics, I can’t raise Winta right, I’m not properly preparing for this baby.” She rested a hand on the sizable bump at her waist as fresh tears filled her eyes. “I can usually adjust to whatever life throws at me, so why is this so _hard_.”

Her husband gently pulled her face up so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Because we aren’t just living life in the village anymore and sorting through this on our own, we have a whole system of people watching us. I feel the pressure too, but I’m sure not as much as you are and I am so sorry.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “I’m sorry I took you away from your life and friends back home. You deserve so much better.”

Omera’s heart panged. She reached up to cup his cheek, mirroring his own touch. “I chose this life, my love. You did not rip me away from anything, and it is not your fault that I am feeling the way I am. You have been nothing but gentle and patient through all of this.”

They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying the comfort of proximity.

“Maybe we should visit home for a while,” Din said softly. “We could have the baby there and then come back when we are ready.”

Omera looked up. “Would the people think we are hiding a secret? Would they hate us for not sharing our joy with them?”

He smiled gently. “Maybe a little bit, but we are the Mand’alors. We rule this planet, why should they get to tell us what we can and can’t do in our private family life?”

She smiled back. “Alright. Let’s go home, then.”

\-----

Being back in the village was bliss.

The friends they had from before they moved to Sundari were overjoyed at the prospect of Din and Omera’s coming child and Winta’s friends were incredibly pleased to see her again. Although she still called Rashel nearly every night, Winta fell right back in with her old group of friends as if nothing had ever changed, leaving her parents to smile at the unshakable adaptability of their daughter.

Cara came with them, of course, to help increase the security of the village and protect the royal family from those who would wish to take Mandalore for themselves. There were, indeed, a couple of assassins that attempted to get into the village but not even remotely succeeded.

The highlight of their stay, of course, was the birth of their second daughter, Hirah.

After nearly 25 hours of labor, the girl had entered the world with a single cry that could have been one of victory. Her parents laughed in relief, even as tears flowed down their cheeks. She was small, but not concerningly so, and already had a head of thick, dark hair. 

The minute Omera saw her, she realized that the discomfort of criticism had been worth it and she would go through the past nine months 20 times over if the result was still the little girl Din now hugged close to his chest. 

Din shifted the baby gently, his movements so controlled and slight, as if he were afraid.

“You won’t break her,” his wife chuckled.

He looked up at her and smiled. “This is just... very different from a 50-year-old baby who can walk.” 

They both laughed at that. “I know,” Omera leaned into him and gently placed a hand on Hirah’s head, “but I think you’ll find that she’s tougher than you’d expect.”

“I suppose she should be, considering her mother.” 

Omera looked up to find Din gazing down at her softly. She tilted her head upward, inviting him in for a soft kiss, which he provided obligingly. When they broke apart, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s head and then leaned back into Omera with a contented sigh.

“We should probably introduce her to her sister and other adoring fans soon.” Omera shifted to get up, but Din pulled her back in close.

“Eventually, but I don’t think anyone will begrudge us for keeping her to ourselves for a bit longer.”

She laughed. “Clearly you are underestimating Winta and Cara’s sense of familial entitlement.”

He chuckled but shook his head. “They can wait.” He was quiet for a moment. “Mandalore can wait too, if you want. We can stay here as long as you like. Ruling remotely hasn’t been too much of a hassel these past few months.”

Omera placed a hand on his chest. “No, I think we should head back as soon as I’ve recovered enough to travel. Our people deserve to meet their newest member.”

Din titled his head, brow furrowing a bit. “What about all the scrutiny from the people? Are you sure you want to face all of that so soon? I can make it work to stay here a while longer while we adjust to raising a baby.”

Omera looked back into the face of their daughter and thought of their family. She thought of how Din had gotten the people to accept him in his quiet (and sometimes deadly) strength. She thought of how Winta had managed to charm the nobility with her wit despite her inclination to be a bit unruly. She thought about how she had earned some respect by helping teach the palace staff’s children.

“No,” Omera smiled, “I think it would be good for us to return and be amongst our people.” She looked back up at Din’s curious face. “I am confident in my ability to care for Hirah and Winta and any other children that may come in the way that is best for them. I am confident in your ability to be a good father and a good ruler. I am confident in my ability to rule by your side.” Din smiled softly as she eaned forward to place her forehead against his. “I’m the consort of the Mand’alor, and I have this handled.”

**Author's Note:**

> Anon! This was such a cute idea and my brain loved it so I ended up writing a fic that was WAY longer than I expected. Hopefully this was as enjoyable to read as it was to write. Thanks for the prompt!


End file.
